The Flea
by DrWorm
Summary: This is a song about sex! Aha... Pietro/Lance slashy goodness to amuse me with my odd literary references. Or something... rated for language and sex.


Notes: Nah… don't ask. 

The Flea

The classroom was silent, save for the gentle sounds of rustling papers. Pietro sat back in his seat, slouching slightly and trying to hide his face behind the student in from of him.

_don't pick me next, don't pick me next, oh god i just know she's going to pick me next. stupid witch, please don't pick me today, not today please…_

Across the aisle, Lance gave the other boy a genuine smile. His elegant fingers idly twirled a standard BiC, completely separated from his concentration. Pietro smiled wanly back at him, the corners of his mouth tight and strained. To quell the frantic palpitations of his nervous heart, he found himself concentrating on the hypnotic movement of the pen, swinging around and around dark fingertips.

_so beautiful, so beautiful… why are we here? why aren't we at home? i want to go home, i want to recite my poem to lance, not these fuckers. i hate british literature. i want to go home and make love to his fingertips…_

"Pietro Maximoff?" The teacher's voice was like an alarm bell, shrill and annoying. "Are you prepared for your recitation today?"

_dammit. i knew she was going to pick me. what was it that made me decide to take brit lit anyway?… oh… right…_

He snuck a final look at Lance's smiling face before answering. "Yes, ma'am." Stifling a sigh, he slid gracefully from behind his desk and headed down the narrow aisle to the front of the room, swinging his hips gently for the benefit of certain persons behind him.

_the flea, by john donne. the flea, by john donne. marke that this flea… no, wait… marke **but** this flea and marke in this…_

"Ready?" The teacher stared at him from behind thick reading glasses, the chain swinging gently across her aging breasts like a metronome. Pietro nodded, shifting his weight from left foot to right foot in preparation. "Go ahead and begin then."

"The Flea, by John Donne."

_marke **but**… marke **but**…_

"Marke but this flea, and marke in this, how little that which thou deny'st me is;"

_when we're apart, i miss you so much. doesn't it seem wrong that i can barely go an entire day without feeling your hands on my body- anywhere on my body? maybe it seems wrong, but it doesn't feel wrong and therefore i've convinced myself that it isn't wrong. and i know, i know you feel the same way because i can see you watching me hungrily at lunch, in the halls, in the classes we have together. it's so unfair; all these other high school couples have the freedom of public displays of affection and we don't. and we mean more to each other too. more than anything; that's why it's not fair…_

"It suck'd me first, and now sucks thee, and in this flea, our two bloods mingled bee;"

_oh jesus, how is it that i can talk? everything seems so jumbled and strange, i'm not even thinking anymore. autopilot… someone else has taken the controls and all i can think of is you, you in the third row, three chairs back. so pretty, smiling at me, telling me silently that i can do it, i can get through it. do you honestly know what i'm thinking about? i wish you did, it might interest you. _

"Thou know'st that this cannot be said a sinne, nor shame, nor losse of maidenhead,"

_i'm thinking of that first time. it was nice, wasn't it? so heavy and heated and frantic in your room, on your bed. i still can't get the taste of you out of my mouth, the salty-sweet and pleasing taste of your sweat and your come. in fact, i taste it every time i become aroused, every time i want you again… i taste it right now…_

"Yet this enjoyes before it wooe, and pamper'd swells with one blood made of two,"

_i wish there was some way to tell you right now, right now so that you could understand. understand why i chose this stupid poem, understand how it feels when you fuck me and we become one being. one beautiful being. the pleasure is secondary, it's being with you and pleasing you that makes me feel good. if i could push my lips onto yours right now, invade your mouth with my tongue, i would. god, i swear i would… so fast… so **fast**…_

"And this, alas, is more than wee would doe."

_they don't understand and it's so cliché, but so true. why don't they understand that we can love each other just as much as a man and a woman can? why can't they know how it feels to have your cock in my mouth, or how your hands and tongue feel rough and soft on the sensitive skin of my inner thighs?_

"Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare, where wee almost, yea more than maryed are."

_sometimes i wish i was a woman for you, for me. so that we could do this and it could be so normal. so that i could go to bed and really fantasize about being married and having children someday. two-point-five kids, a dog, and a little house in the suburbs. why? why is life so unfair? i'm not sure why i love you, why i lust over you, and why i melt every time you put your arms around my waist and kiss me softly right behind my ear. why, why, why?_

"This flea is you and I, and this our mariage bed, and mariage temple is though parents grudge, and you, w'are met,"

_i don't love you, i'm obsessed with you, except that it's the same thing and i don't mind really. i think about you almost all the time. will lance like this? will lance like this? and i know you do the same thing, because sometimes you come home with little presents, little trinkets for me, and you say you just thought of me on the way home and it's no big deal. but it is. one day you came home late with a bag of my favorite candy, and i know the nearest place to buy it is nearly fifty miles away. you tried to blow it off, but i knew and i rewarded you for it that night. because i love you and i love it when you take time to think about me. _

"And cloysterd in these living walls of Jet. Though use make you apt to kill mee,"

_you see? it's not all about depraved sex with no emotions. don't believe them when they say that; i love you so much. ignore bitter kitty, she never cared about you the same way i did. and do. i do, and i want to do everything i can to show you that. _

"Let not to that, selfe murder added bee, and sacrilege, three sinnes in killing three."

_and don't believe the bible, because it's never said anything useful before and it's not about to start now. just ignore it all, let me cushion all the blows, let me wrap us in a cotton cocoon so we don't have to listen to what other people say. so we can hold hands in the hallways and kiss in public, instead of resorting to macho forms of physical contact and sly innuendos. _

"Cruell and sodaine, hast thou since purpled thy naile, in blood of innocence?"

_i hate keeping things hidden so much! i just want to blurt it out to the world, to shout and scream and shriek and cry that, yes, i like other boys and, yes, i'm sleeping with lance alvers and, yes, every night i kneel down in front of him and make him moan. and every night he touches me in the same ways and i shiver because it feels so fucking good, and you wouldn't understand… you wouldn't understand at all… _

"Wherein could this flea guilty bee, except in that drop which it suckt from thee?" 

_do you ever wonder what people would think if we just let it go, let it fall right out in the open? my father would be furious, i'm sure… not that i ever cared before. freddy and todd would be shocked, of course… especially after all those weeks when they had to hear about kitty, kitty, kitty. i wonder if they've noticed how seldom kitty comes up in our conversations now, after you finally let her go. _

"Yet thou triumph'st, and saist that thou find'st not thy selfe, nor mee the weaker now; 'tis true, then learne how false, feares bee;"

_oh, and if kitty knew… knew for sure… it would be more than just rumors, i suspect. ha… maybe it's been said before, but even though kitty looks sweet, she's got claws beyond rivalry. i sure wouldn't want to meet her in a dark alley late at night… haha… especially with the vendetta she has against me. her 'replacement'. silly girl. i'm not her replacement, i'm not the other woman. i'm the love, i'm the only, and she's just mad because she missed her chance… haha… fuck you kitty... and what about poor scott? he and jean always try to be so nice to everyone; i wonder if they would up the sickly-sweet act on us if they found out? just to convince themselves that, of course, they weren't prejudiced in any way against homosexuals… i'd laugh in their fucking faces._

"Just so much honor, when thou yeeld'st to mee, will wast, as this flea's death tooke life from thee."

_would you? i don't mean to be so bitter, i really don't. but they can all be normal and we can't. it makes me angry, it makes me sad… i don't want to live this way. i just want to be with you and leave the rest of the world behind. i want love and beauty. i want fucking on long, hot nights and cold winter days. i want you forever, or for as long as you want me. the poem's for you, not this stupid bitch who's staring at me with hawk eyes like tiny glass beads. not for her. for you. always._

Pietro stopped, his throat seizing up after the last word. His hands were trembling; he'd had to lock them behind his back to stop the distraction. There was a long pause.

"Well done," the decrepit woman at the side of the room finally acknowledged. "You may take your seat now."

_thank you, god, for letting me get though. thank you, thank you, thank you…_

He gave her a nod and hurried back down the aisle to his seat. As he past lance's desk, a familiar gloved hand reached out and caught his own, giving it a firm, gentle squeeze and quickly letting go.

Pietro sat hurriedly, and let his eyes travel inconspicuously across the aisle. Lance's face was calm, obviously quite pleased with the other boy. As he watched, Lance's lips moved slowly, forming the words 'I love you'.

Pietro smiled as he felt tears sting the corners of his eyes. 'I love you, too' he mouthed back. Lance nodded and turned away. 'Forever…'

_forever and forever and forever…_


End file.
